Page 25 of Cursed Shadows 4

The light male stills.

Flushed cheek facing me, his brow tugs again and his lashes flutter, once, twice—then his jaw hardens.

Slowly, he turns his darkening look back to me. The yellow hue of his eyes flickers like buttery petals caught in a storm. The brown smear of his leathers tightens over his tensed muscles.

I have enough breath in me now to ease the ache, but not enough to push onto my feet and run, or to throw out pleas that will certainly fall on deaf ears.

Horror has me frozen on the dusting of snow, but colder than the touch of it against my thermaled armour is the trickle of fear spreading through my insides.

Of all the fae around me, this one saw me.

This one recognised me.

I swallow back a lump—and that one move from me strikes through the litalf.

In a split heartbeat, he’s moving for me.

His strong legs jerk before he’s lunging through the air in a long, perfect jump over the blockfield.

I don’t wait to see him land.

A panicked breath strangles me.

I force every ounce of strength into a violent shove back from my squat, and I smack down on my back. No hesitation delays me before my boots are kicking against the foliage, over and over, until—

The ground drops, and I fall down the hill.

I tumble.

Bracing myself, I fold my arms over my head like a helmet of flesh and bone. Beyond the whirling smears of white and grey and brown, I am blind.

And I feeleverything.

Nettles scratch my cheeks, foliage wrenches at my braids, a nestled rock punches my shoulder so hard that tears burn my clenched eyes.

But all I can do is roll down the hill. Barrel, like a dropped cannonball, and I know if it wasn’t for this leathered armour moulded to my body, open wounds would be bleeding from my flesh. It won’t stop the bruises, and I feel the early kiss of them blooming all over me.

Between my grunts, the thundering sound of punishing bootsteps chases me down the slope. The light male rushes after me.

The drop of the hill is my only ally.

I plummet.

Each landing has me bouncing back up in the frosty air, then I smack down again, hard, rolling, and the momentum is too much, I wouldn’t know how to stop it if I needed to.

It batters me.

The fall beats me black and blue, I’m certain of it.

And still, I don’t try to slow myself down, because he is racing after me. Those pounding bootsteps are gaining on me, shuddering the very earth I smack into and tumble down.

A cry splits me.

My forehead knocks off a hard chunk of forest floor.

The tingling heat swells on my brow, and I know my blood smears the rock left behind.

I keep rolling, a dizziness quick to cloud me.

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